


being blue is better than being over it (over it)

by t0bemadeofglass



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Jotun Loki, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, Snowed In, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:59:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5557055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/pseuds/t0bemadeofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In part, Natasha supposed it was because she owed Thor a favor.  Another part was that her ledger was still red, after all the work she’d done to clean it up, and this would be a step in the right direction. Helping thy enemy, or whatever, had to be worth something in the grand scheme of things. </p><p>Still, it would’ve been funny as all unholy hell to see Loki stuck out in the blustering snow, bright blue and red-eyed like some perverse idea of frostbite taken too far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	being blue is better than being over it (over it)

**Author's Note:**

> Two parter! Couldn't wait to upload this because I kinda like where it's going so far, and I'm forcing myself to take the characterization slower in this, to actually let it play out rather than just jumping straight to the smut like normal. So. I had to break it up in order to do that haha.   
> The next chapter ought to earn its rating, but for now I present to you the build up. Thanks for reading, and hope everyone had a wonderful holiday!

In part, she supposed it was because she owed Thor a favor. He’d had her back after the last Asgardian encounter, even when no one else had believed her about not  _ touching  _ the damn unknown object from a different realm, and he’d stuck up for her when everything had gone to hell, and helped her through the clean up process. Another part was that her ledger was still red, after all the work she’d done to clean it up, and this would be a step in the right direction. Helping thy enemy, or whatever, had to be worth something in the grand scheme of things. 

Still, it would’ve been funny as all unholy hell to see Loki stuck out in the blustering snow, bright blue and red-eyed like some perverse idea of frostbite taken too far. He’d found his way to her doorstep in the middle of a blizzard not unlike the ones she remembered back in Russia, and when she’d showed a modicum of relenting he’d wheedled his way inside, seating himself on her couch and toweling off his black, thick hair as she watched him from the opposite side of the dimly lit room. 

“I’m not going to jump out at you.” he said as he looked over in her direction, the glow of his red stare making her stomach flop with a mixture of anticipation and the slightest touch of worry. Nat swallowed them both down. 

She wasn’t so sure at his promise, but her hand dropped from the holster of her gun as a show of good faith, and she moved further into the kitchen to heat up water for tea, or coffee. They might not have had the latter on Asgard but Thor had taken to it like a bee to honey, so she wasn’t about to doubt that his adopted brother might just do the same. As she padded silently around the room, waiting for the kettle to begin to sing, she listened hard for the sound of his footsteps on the floor, taking comfort in the creak of the wooden panels beneath him, alerting her of his every step. Part of her wondered whether he was doing it on purpose, if he knew it would help her to relax. The rest of her didn’t give a damn, just glad that she didn’t have to sleep with one eye open if he was going to be this noisy when he moved around the house. 

“So why’re you blue?” she asked, hoping to gauge his feelings based on his reaction to the question, rather than what he bothered to answer her with. She had a faint idea what it was that caused his pigment to change, Thor talking a  _ little  _ bit too much after he’d had a few bottles of vodka, and she was sure that the cold wasn’t helping any, but really she was amazed that he didn’t miss a beat as he answered. 

“Hypothermia. Don’t you know it’s a killer?” His voice was dry and she cracked a smile, unable to help herself. 

“I think we better get you to a doctor if it’s that bad, huh?” 

“I’ve lived through worse.” 

She didn’t doubt that. Still in the kitchen, she pulled out a beer and listened to him make his way closer to the kitchen, Nat twisting off the cap to the bottle with ease before offering it up. Loki sniffed at it, his skin slowly changing back to pink. She wondered if it was his magic coming back, or simply a temporary fix. A mix of both wouldn’t have been outside of the question, she supposed, but didn’t say anything about it. He accepted the beer with a nod of gratitude, bringing the tip of the drink to his lips so that he could try it. Almost immediately he pulled a face. 

“This is piss.” 

She arched a brow. “You know what it tastes like from experience?”

“It’s an expression.”

“It’ll warm you up.” 

“I can think of a better way to do that.” 

She sunk her fist into his gut and the ‘oof’ she got was near as satisfying as his shock when he’d been caged on the Helicarrier. 

 

\--

 

Frost giant or not, Loki stayed inside as the blizzard kept up, and really Natasha didn’t question it. The first night kept her on edge, her gun stashed beneath her pillow, a knife well within reach in case the bullets didn’t work. She kept her bites close by, too. He might’ve been familiar with electricity but he’d never been on the receiving end of her work before. She didn’t want to give him any sort of advantages. She’d hardly slept, dozing here and there but jerking to consciousness as soon as she heard a shift or rattle, mostly from the heavy winds battering her windows. How long was this damn storm going to hold out for? She checked the radar on her phone and groaned, not caring for the answer. 

She brewed a pot of extra strong coffee when she came back into the kitchen, having caught sight of Loki curled up on the floor, rather than her couch. He’d taken the cushions off, and still his feet hung over the edges, his hair a tangled knot, his skin still looking a little blue-ish underneath it all. She didn’t pry, just quietly got to fixing a meager breakfast and sipping at her coffee once it was done brewing. Loki stirred from his place on the floor as the bacon got to sizzling, one of the few things that Nat had breakfast-y, and the toast popped up. 

“There’s food,” she said when he looked up and over at her, sitting down at her table. Her mug of coffee steamed in front of her, and she munched on well crisped bacon, offering him a small smile. It was tight, and not her most genuine, but whether or not he appreciated it was lost on her as he took a seat just opposite to pick at a slice of bacon. 

“Do you want coffee?” she asked. She’d made a full pot and he nodded, rubbing his face with one of his hands. She watched his long fingers leave light blue trails where they went, as though the pressure of his fingertips brought the color closer to the surface, and wondered just what sort of spell he was under. If her eyes lingered on just how long his fingers were . . . well at least he didn’t seem to notice. Small mercies, and all that. He inhaled the scent of bacon and coffee before getting to his feet and heading towards her pantry. He grabbed the sugar, and the milk from the refrigerator without saying so much as another word, fixing up a mug of coffee how he preferred it. Every spoonful of sugar made Natasha’s teeth hurt, but maybe they didn’t have to worry about cavities on Asgard. 

That thought helped to distract her from wondering just how it was he knew his way around her kitchen. 

“Does everyone on Asgard have a sweet tooth?” she asked once her mouth was empty of coffee and a piece of toast wrapped around bacon. Improve BLT, she supposed, minus a third of the ingredients. 

Loki arched an eyebrow as he looked at her, considering the question as he chewed over his own bite of food. “I suppose. It varies.” He paused, then offered her a dry smile. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Do what?” she played stupid. It tended to force him to show his hand.

“Pretend that you want me here, that you care about where I come from.” 

“I do care.” It wasn’t a lie, and she watched his expression mold with the realization. He leaned forward in his seat slightly. She didn’t comment on the first half of his statement, and he didn’t push it. After a moment, in which Natasha was sure her spine would poke out of her back from how tightly she was sitting, he relaxed and went on to tell her about Asgard and their food. 

She hid her smile by taking another sip of coffee. 

 

\--

 

“You’re out of milk,” Loki called to where Natasha had curled up with a book she’d meant to read for the past year and a half. She hardly looked up from the pages, sitting sideways in the armchair she’d gotten from one of Clint’s old apartments, no longer needed now that he had a home and all that, and dammit she was too comfortable to do much anything else. 

“So go out and get some.” 

“I can’t.” 

She let the next question hang between them, flipping the page and not reading the words on the page, but pretending to. He hadn’t said just why it was he kept inside the past couple days. While the blizzard winds had died down, slightly, the temperatures were getting to record lows, and Nat’s heat had kicked into overdrive. Not that she kept it all that warm, preferring a cozy 68 degrees, but she supposed that was saying something that it’d been working just about nonstop to keep it at that. Loki didn’t say anything, just sighed heavily. The sound of the tap being run filled the room, followed almost immediately by a choked gag, and her garbage disposal being run. She paused in reading the same line for the fifth time. 

“Did you just try and eat cereal with water, instead of milk?” 

Silence, then. “I don’t recommend it.” 

She smiled in spite of herself. “There might be some rumchata in the fridge. It’s liquor, but it’s got milk in it. Might work better.” 

He didn’t say anything, but she heard the refrigerator door open and the sound of a bottle being opened up as well. A healthy glug or two later, and there was a muffled hum of surprise. She smiled. 

“I might prefer this to milk.” 

Yeah, they’d see after a few bowls just how much he preferred it. She bit her lip to suppress a smile at the thought of him getting drunk off of breakfast cereal, or at least tipsy. Asgardian alcohol might’ve been more potent than what they had on Earth, but she was willing to bet if he went through the whole bottle he’d still feel something. She had reason to be worried if he didn’t. 

He came to sit opposite her soon after he’d finished eating, a cup of the rumchata in his hands as he sipped at it while on the couch. “This isn’t so bad.” he admitted after a few minutes of silence between them. She looked up at him and allowed herself a smile. He’d brought the bottle with him, and courtesy of the light coming in from the window she could see he’d gone through at least half the bottle in the short time it’d been opened. Given how he was all but chugging the bit he’d poured into his glass she doubted he’d last the full hour before it was all gone. 

“I’m glad you like it. When the storm lets up you can buy me a new bottle.” 

He offered her a smile of his own. “I suppose I do owe you something for so graciously allowing me to stay with you.” 

That made her pause, and though the smile froze on her face her eyes searched his. Was that the liquor speaking for him? He had a nearly empty stomach, now filled with sugar-coated cereal and alcohol, so it wasn’t difficult to reason that he was feeling the effects more acutely than before. There was something in his gaze that made her skin warm, and she hadn’t even had anything to drink. Her tongue swiped over her bottom lip and she watched as his eyes followed it, gaze heated. Her breath caught but she looked back down at her book, turning the page absently until she felt his attention shift. It wasn’t that she was uncomfortable, but rather she needed a moment to dissect what had just happened, needed to break it down. There was no way that she’d act without thinking this through, not when it was something like this. 

Loki didn’t seem to have the same qualms, rising from his seat to move closer, crouching just in front of her. She kept still, her eyes never leaving his as he stayed there. Had he not been breathing he might’ve been able to pass as a statue, but his breath was coming in short, quiet pants and his pupils were dilated considerably. She wetted her lips once more and watched as his gaze followed her tongue’s movement.

“You’re drunk.”

“I'm not.”

He was something, that was for damn sure, but maybe it was simply more than liquored up. 

Either way, she shifted to bring her legs to the floor, to the side of his shoulders, and stood up to distance herself from him. As she moved to pour herself a glass of water from the kitchen she heard him get up as well, but he didn’t follow after her. She kept stock still in front of the kitchen sink as she listened to him step towards the spare room she’d once tried to make into an office, the click of the door echoing behind him. Only then did she let out a soft, shaky breath. What in the hell was she supposed to make of all that? 


End file.
